Nature Laughs
by Lionna
Summary: Because Harry wasn't jaded enough as it was. Horses should NOT look like that. Sort of a prequel to Crestfallen.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter or Avengers.

Note: No, this isn't the side story with the pairing. That's gonna show up later, when every chapter that it has spoilers for is posted. But some people have asked for both more Heimdall and Harry bonding, and the story mentioned in the first chapter, the tusked horse. So I'm fulfilling both requests at once. This does good enough, I might add more chapters to it with more stories of our hapless hero's travels.

* * *

_**Nature Laughs**_

A week after their first picnic, Harry and Fenrir made their way to the Bifrost dome to have a repeat. Fenrir was prancing back and forth in front of the wizard, occasionally going behind him to nudge him forward impatiently.

"Slow down, you great brute! The rabbits won't disappear if we walk a little slower." He told the wolf, who just huffed at him impatiently. Because he was feeling a bit mischievous, and because it would annoy the wolf, Harry began to walk even slower. Fenrir whined pathetically, and gave up on pushing him forward, knowing that if he tried again, his packmate would probably just go even slower.

Over the last few days, he had come to know his packmate better, settling into a life together until father returned. He soon realized that his packmate's power didn't smell _exactly_ like father's, but it was close enough. Fenrir also realized that while he didn't have the cruel streak father did, his packmate was just as mischievous at times, though he didn't cause problems, he sure found them easily.

Fenrir huffed again, but soon perked up when the home of the dark one with shiny things came into view. That meant that he would get his rabbits soon!

Harry laughed as Fenrir raced ahead, leaving the wizard behind. "You know, you won't be able to get your rabbits until I get there!" He called after his companion with a grin.

When he arrived at the Bifrost, he greeted Heimdall warmly, ignoring the impatient way Fenrir was prancing in place. His packmate would have to wait. ... Hold on... Packmate? Where had that come from? Brushing it off as a silly thought, Harry smiled again at the Allseeing god before finally turning to his companion.

Pulling out a whole bundle of rabbits from his pocket, he enlarged them and tossed them to the wolf, dismissing the happiness that enveloped him as the happiness of having a companion.

He wouldn't realize until much, much later, after it was too late to reverse, that he was starting to sense Fenrir's stronger feelings, which was the first indicators of a familiar bond forming.

Conjuring up two chairs and a table, along with tableware, was the work of a moment. After eight hundred years of practicing magic, it came much easier to him than it ever had. With another few hundred, he probably wouldn't need either a wand of hand movements, just a thought. He wasn't sure if he was excited about that prospect, or incredibly sad.

Sitting down and motioning to the other chair, Harry set out the food he had brought for them, making sure to include some of the things Heimdall admitted to liking at their last meeting. Getting the god to give out information about himself was like pulling teeth. But Harry was often called a tenacious bastard. When they were both settled and comfortable, Harry leaned forward and grinned.

"So what stories are you going to tell me today?" He asked excitedly.

Heimdall smiled and took a bite of the veal set before him. "Actually, Harry, I would like you to tell me a story about you."

Leaning back with a look of utter confusion on his face, Harry tilted his head. "You've seen everything that's ever happened to me. Why would you want it retold?"

The god made a dismissive gesture. "I have seen them all, yes, but... It would be different to hear it from your own perspective, with your thoughts behind it all... do you not wish to?" He seemed almost hesitant, but the wizard waved him off, the smile back.

"I have no problem with it, I was just wondering. But yeah, I can tell you a few stories." He placed a selective silencing spell around Fenrir, who was now noisily gnawing on bones so that the sounds wouldn't disturb them. It wouldn't block off many other noises, like barks, yips, or whines just in case.

So, taking bites between words, Harry began his first story, which was one of his more amusing ones, even if it was not pleasant in the least while it was happening.

* * *

Harry stood up from the crouching position he had landed in, looking around cautiously. When he realized he was no longer in the same area that he was before, he growled in frustration. "That bastard killed me and made me jump!" He exclaimed unhappily. He had actually like the last world a bit,

He soon noticed he was speaking English again. Which was either a good sign, or a really really bad one.

Normally, when he made jumps he automatically took up the language of the most dominate, or closest civilizations. If he was speaking English, that either meant that this planet had English speakers, or that there was no civilization and that he had automatically fallen back on his mother language.

Pulling out the Elder Wand, he said hopefully, "Point me; Great Britain." He cursed when it began spinning uselessly. _Not_ a good first sign. Trying again, he said in a slightly hopeless tone, "Point me; civilization." His shoulders drooped when it had the same reaction. No civilization...

Grimacing, he tucked the wand back away. "Alright, this is not the first time this has happened." He told himself, trying to bolster his mood. It didn't work very well. Worlds without civilizations were some of the worst, because that usually meant there were really big predators that would eat anything humanoid enough to try to create settlement. Which meant that they were more than big enough to eat Harry.

And being eaten was one of the worst ways to die, in the wizard's very expert opinion. Sighing and picking up his bag, which only came with him because that was normally where he kept at least on Hollow, he shouldered it and took a closer look at his surroundings. The area he was standing in seemed to be some sort of plain, with long grass waving slightly in the light wind. It was rather peaceful.

Until he notice a series of very large flattened areas. They seemed to go in a straight line, from one direction to another for as long as he could see. Which usually meant foot prints.

Frowning, he cautiously approached one of the flattened places, and stared at it in bemusement. It was... a really really big hoof print? He could have laid down in the middle print, and wouldn't touch either side with his head of feet. Hoofs belonged to prey animal... so what kind of predator could hope to hunt something this big?

It never occurred to Harry that normally equine prey moved in herds, not solitary like the animal who owned the large hoof prints.

* * *

"And really, it was kind of stupid of me not to think about it." Harry told Heimdall with a self derisive smile. "I mean, predators are normally the only thing brave enough to move alone. Prey animals stick together, power in numbers and all that."

Heimdall nodded, a smile on his face.

* * *

Harry had spent a week in this world before he came across the owner of the enormous hoofs. He had encountered other creatures while following the prints curiously, of course, field mice the size of his back pack and, when cooked tasted like beef, what kind of looked like a lion, though was only the same size of the mouse and had spiky fur like a porcupine, things like that. But nothing like a giant horse, of a predator big enough to eat one.

But then his luck ran out. He came across the animal he was following like a fool.

He was foraging for fruits that were edible for him in a very very high tree when he looked down at the ground again to catch sight of an equinine back. It was long and lean, with hairless parts on its body that were caused by scars. Harry could only see the top only, and even from his enormously high vantage point he could tell it was incredibly large.

Pulling his broom from his bottomless backpack, he carefully climbed upon it and zipped down to get a closer look. Because even at nearly six hundred years old, he was still a foolish Gryffindor at heart.

It wasn't until he was level with a massive eye that he realized why he had come across no evidence of a predator big enough to eat the horse-creature. Because the horse-creature _was_ the predator!

It was far larger than he could have imagined, and a lot more aggressive than any other meat eater he had encountered. Ever. No wonder it had risen to the top of the food chain.

* * *

"So I spent three weeks on the run from that thing!" Harry exclaimed, gesturing wildly. "Apparently when I flew down to it, it caught my scent and found it pretty savory!"

Heimdall laughed. He knew what came next, but it was a lot funnier coming from the world-traveler's mouth.

Harry drooped back into his chair. "Three weeks, and even with all the scent suppressing, invisibility, and stealth spells I know, that bastard still managed to catch up with me! I was growing exhausted, though, unable to sleep, or even rest for a few minutes because it was as fast as it was mean. So there I am, flying as fast as my Firebolt would let me when..."

* * *

Tusks! That damn thing had TUSKS! In what messed up version of evolution would a _horse_ need to grow to the size of a double decker bus and have _tusks_? Nature was certainly laughing her happy arse off at his idea at what was _normal_. It was the only explanation.

He was flat against his broom, still urging it to go faster because he could hear that animal's thundering footsteps behind him, but he dare not look back.

Thus he didn't see it get close enough to open its mouth and... spew out foul _tentacles_ which then wrapped around the tail of his broom and tugged. His eyes widened in shock.

... He was going to be eaten by a thrice damned horse with tusks and tentacles... This was wrong on so many levels. With a curse, he accepted his hate as a few tentacles wrapped around his waist. The only thing he could do was protect his belongings so they were still in one piece when they joined him on the next jump. He banished the broom into his bag, and took slow, torturous moments to place as many protective spells on his bag as he could. He had found out accidentally during his very first jump that the Hollows not on his person still jumped with him, and that if they were in something, the container came too. Thus his idea to put all of his needed belongings and at least one Hollow in his bag, which also still held his trunk in it...

It was then that he realized that the tentacles were actually injecting him with some kind of chemical that made his mind wonder and paralyzed him at the same time. It was slow working, probably because while the tentacles were fast at going _out _of the horse-thing's mouth, they were slow going back in. Curious and fighting the effects, Harry summoned a couple of vials from his bag, carefully filled them while his movements grew more and more sluggish, and banished them back.

He could study them in the next world.

* * *

"And that was my last coherent thought in that world." Harry finished off.

Heimdall nodded. "So that's why you collected samples. You see, like I said, I know the whole story from a third person point of view, but I don't know what you're thinking or why you do something."

Harry smiled, and fished dessert from his pocket, which he had made, much to the confusion of the Asgardian chefs he had found in the kitchen. It was a tiramisu, which the god eyed curiously.

"I have seen those made and eaten may times, but I admit that this will be my first time trying one." He said, taking the plate the wizard handed him.

Harry then held his amusement in check as soon as the Allseeing took a bite. The god's amazing eyes widened in shock and pleasure. "I am glad to know that you gave the cooks this recipe..." He said after a while of just enjoying the dish. Harry grinned and took a bite of his own.

The next few moments passed in silence, until Harry muttered, "I _still_ want to know what sort of messed up evolution scale created that... _thing._"

Heimdall just laughed.

* * *

Poor Harry. After that, nothing should surprise him, right? Well, anyway, I'll be posting tomorrow's chapter on time, but I'm going camping on Wednesday through at least Sunday, if not Tuesday. So I'll be posting Wednesday's chapter on Tuesday, and Friday's chapter... whenever I get back. After that I'll get cack to my normal schedule. But in the meantime, I hope y'all enjoyed this!

Lionna


	2. He's Not Laughing

Disclaimer: Don't own.

* * *

_**Nature Laughs Chapter Two- He's Not Laughing**_

Heimdall smiled as he watched the World-Walker make his way towards the Bifrost. He seemed happy today, as happy as the Allseeing god had seen him in almost a century. He knew it had to do with the large wolf that was trotting beside him. Fenrir seemed to have discovered a love for playing in the water, and often soaked the wizard completely during his weekly baths.

Heimdall saw Harry act irritated, but both he and the wolf knew there was no real heat to it, and that it really just amused the wizard.

Harry only smiled and acted like that on the planets in which he adopted young ones. Those were also the jumps he was extra cautious in, not wanting to die and leave the dependents unprotected until they were old enough to fend for themselves.

Harry and Fenrir arrived, racing, the wizard on his broom, and the wolf running gleefully. They arrived at nearly the same time.

"Good evening Harry, what brings you here?" Heimdall asked, though he knew very well. Whenever the wizard was happy, truly happy, he had to spread it around. Which meant that, along with the food he normally brought, Harry brought one more member.

Thor ran up behind him, color high in his cheeks from exertion as he looked at the broom Harry had used to win the race by a hair.

"That is a fascinating instrument, World-traveler! What is it?" The god asked boisterously.

Harry blinked at him as though he had no idea that Thor had followed him after the race had passed by the blond a ways back. Heimdall knew very well that, not only had he been very aware of the time Thor joined, he also planned it that way. "It's a broom." He answered simply, shrugging. "Are you hungry, Thor?"

Thor nodded seriously. "Verily."

"Alright then. Heimdall, I hope you don't mind if he joins!" Harry said, walking over to the Allseeing god with a smile. Heimdall returned it, shaking his head.

And so, like before they all settled down to eat, with one more member.

Thor, who had been curious of the world-walker since his arrival and the shocking revelation of his role in the End, expressed it as he always did. As bluntly as possible. "World-traveler, how long have you been jumping." He asked with no segue.

Harry shrugged. "There's no way to accurately tine it, because time is measured differently in almost every world, but I'd estimate around eight hundred years."

Thor frowned slightly. "Forgive me, but I thought humans only lived to be a century at best."

The wizard tilted up his eyebrow. "That's most humans, yeah. But where I come from, the oldest person I knew was one hundred and fifteen, and would have still lived quite a long time if he wasn't killed. My people are unusually long lived. But even then, I guess none of them would have lived as long as me... But you already knew I was unlike most humans." He pointed out. Thor nodded thoughtfully.

Heimdall watched the exchange with some amusement. Where most people would have grown weary of Thor's indelicate questions, Harry just answered every single one of them with patience.

"What are your travels like?" Thor finally asked, obviously the question he had been leading to. Harry had to think about that one.

Heimdall cut in. "They are varied, young Odinsson. Some better than others. How about you tell us about the first time you jumped, Harry, and then maybe the one where you inadvertently became the Emperor."

Harry groaned. "Those two specifically?" He asked, though humor was shining in his eyes.

Heimdall nodded seriously, "For contrast."

The wizard nodded. "Fine." Then began...

* * *

Harry spun around frantically, more than a little panicked. One moment he was watching the body that once belonged to the greatest Dark Lord in at least half a century crumble to so much dust, the next...

He had no idea where he was.

Another point of contention was that his right hand, which had been gripping Draco Malfoy's wand, was empty.

Without pause, he threw himself to the ground in a defensive crouch, looking around with sharp eyes.

A Death Eater must have gotten him from behind, and the young wizard cursed himself for letting himself relax too soon.

Now he was wandless, in a strange place, and... fuck him! He was naked!

Deciding instantly that his modesty was a lot less important than his life, he ignored that last point for now.

But there was no wand pointing his way. In fact, he was seemingly alone in the middle of nowhere.

Standing slowly, he sighed gladly when he saw his school trunk sitting not too far away.

He made to move towards it, but drew up his foot with a hiss as he stepped on something that sent a shock of electricity up his spine. Crouching down warily, he frowned when he realized it was the Stone, still set in the Ring.

Harry knew he had dropped the damn thing in the Forbidden Forest, losing it on purpose. And yet, here they both were in a place that was obviously not the Forest. Not a forest at all actually, he thought, glancing around again. He was well aware this could be a trap.

But unless the Death Eaters could somehow bury themselves in preparation for an overly complicated trap, there was no way anyone was hidden around here.

He was in a pretty vast field, surrounded by bright bursts of flowers he could not even begin to name.

Shaking himself slightly, he quickly picked up the Ring, tensing just in case Death Eaters _were_ waiting to spring something on him. When nothing happened, he slipped it on his finger (having no where else to put it in his state of dress) and continued to the trunk.

Only to trip over something that zapped him like the Ring. The only reason he did not land on his face with his bare ass in the air was the training he had gone through with Moody. Instead he twisted his body to land on nimble feet, low to the ground.

Harry almost expected it when he saw it was the Elder Wand, buried tip down in the loamy earth, that had sent him ass over teakettle.

"I'm beginning to see a pattern here." He muttered to himself, wrenching the wand from the ground.

The wizard stood again with a sigh, wondering if the Cloak was going to be his next obstacle.

With a grunt, he moved forward again, this time taking a look at the ground every few seconds. He really should have been doing that before, but he was so intent on what was around him that he made the common mistake of not looking down. Or up! No one thought to look up either! He rapidly incorperated that direction in his surveillance, cursing himself for not thinking of it before.

_'Wizards have __brooms__, Potter!'_ the voice of Moody barked in his head. He winced and offered an apologetic smile to a man that was not there. That would never be there again. His trainer was dead.

Shaking off the depression that threatened to overwhelm him at that thought like a stifling blanket (Oh God, he didn't know the body count of the battle! Was it still going on? What if Ron or Hermione were-)

He wouldn't know that if he sat there naked, he thought to himself with a scowl.

He finally made it over to the trunk, throwing it open and half expecting it to be empty.

But no, there were all of the things he had put into it last time, including the Cloak, which he had half thought had been lurking on the ground somewhere waiting to trip him.

Wasting no time, he used the recovered Wand to cast detection spells at the things in the trunk, making sure there were no malignant incantations.

Nothing.

So here he was, naked, alone, originally wandlessly, in a strange place, and the only thing that could have been read as even slightly malicious was making him trip over the Wand... and even that just resupplied him with the most powerful wand in existence.

Barely even a prank, at best. Maybe it was an ill conceived prank...

But who in the world would prank him right after he defeated Voldemort?! Not even Fred and George would be that ridiculous.

Granted, the might do something like this at a less stressful time, but they wouldn't give him an easy way to rearm and reclothe himself.

Well, prank or not, Harry was _not _laughing.

Grunting and shrugging on some robes, he reached for the Cloak, only to recoil when it zapped him like the Ring and Wand had.

"What is that all about?" He growled. He already knew there was no malicious magic on it. But maybe it was something beyond his skill at detecting.

Then again, nothing happened after the other two Hallows did the same thing...

He pulled on the Cloak, eyes sharp on _all_ of his surroundings. But still, nothing happened. He pulled off the Ring and tossed it into the trunk, before shrinking the whole thing down and putting it in his pocket. He had to get moving if he was going to figure out where he was.

* * *

"I managed to live in that world for all of two weeks before dying of starvation. I didn't even realize I wasn't on my own world." Harry admitted. Needless to say, the first jump had not been fun. It had been far from the worst jump, but still...

Thor tilted his head. "I do have a few questions about your story, World-traveler." He said.

"Fire away, Odinsson." Harry replied.

Thor nodded. "Well, first is, you were not naked when Sif and I found you, so was the just special circumstance of that world, or do you appear naked on every world and just put on clothes?"

The wizard grimaced. "Actually, I appeared naked in most of my first few jumps, but it didn't take long for me to figure out two things. One, that the Cloak would repair itself if torn, and two, that anything that had a Hallow in it came with me on the jumps. So I ripped off small pieces of the Cloak and sewed them into the hems of all of my clothes."

Both gods snickered at his expense, and the wizard pouted slightly. After that, Thor continued. "You mentioned people in your story, Ron, Herm-something, Moody, and Fred and Gorge."

"Ron and Hermione were my first and best friends, and most cherished allies. Kind of like the Warrior Three to you. Moody was my trainer, like I said. He could be a right bastard when you didn't get something right, but I advanced a lot under his care. And Fred and _George_, not gorge, were Ron's brothers. Twins and pranksters, but with the best business sense I have ever seen." He answered, his eyes going slightly misty at the memory.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Thor with a pained expression on his face. The way the World-traveler had made the twins sound was a lot like Loki.

* * *

Not as humorous as the first chapter, but someone asked for a description of the first jump, and here it is. Tune in next weekend for the next chapter, and keep an eye on Crestfallen, it'll be updated tomorrow. Lot of love.

Lionna


End file.
